


One Dance

by LuthienLuinwe



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Minor Accidental Violence, Prom, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: When Jason gets roped into chaperoning prom with Dick, things go better than he ever could have expected.





	One Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reah22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reah22/gifts).



> Thanks to crookedspoon for the beta!

**One dance, just you and me. Beneath the moon, beside the sea. One dance, and it’s happily ever after.**

* * *

It had been a long day, even by Jason’s standards. Patrol the night before hadn't gone nearly as smoothly as he had hoped it would. He’d gotten a nasty gash on his arm that Roy had had to stitch up (and had done a surprisingly decent job of it too despite the nasty concussion he’d gotten). And Kory. Well. Jason had never seen her quite that fired up before.

He had broken into one of Dick’s safehouses more out of convenience than any real desire to accidentally-on-purpose run into the man. Besides. Dick was up in Bludhaven, a good forty minute drive from Downtown Gotham.  


He had expected to push one of the warehouse windows open, slide right in, sleep off the past twenty-four hours, and move on with his life.

What he certainly  _ hadn't  _ expected was an escrima stick straight to the back of the head, a more surprised than angry “shit,” and the welcoming embrace of darkness that greeted him like an old friend.

He groaned as he slowly started to come to, ears ringing and vision doubled. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision, and stifled a laugh when he saw he was lying on his side, head resting on his hand. “So,” he spoke and carefully propped himself up into a sitting position, glancing over at Dick with an expression of mild annoyance. He must not have been out too long, then. Dick was still calm and collected. Granted, Jason had never really seen him panic before. “Is that how you greet all your guests, or am I just that lucky?”

“In my defense, you broke in,” Dick crossed his arms and leaned back against an exposed brick wall. “I didn’t realize it was you until you were halfway to the ground.”

“You expect many visitors in through the window?”

“So I’m paranoid,” Dick shrugged, palms pointed upward to the sky. “Sue me.”

Jason rolled his eyes and shook his head, groaning again when the motion made his headache worse. “God, you hit hard,” he complained and lay back down on the cool concrete floor.

“What’s today’s date?” Dick asked, and Jason shot him a death glare, though made no move to get back up from the ground. He’d have to move eventually, sure. But for now, the floor was cold and not entirely uncomfortable.

“February 25th, Dickiebird.” His tone was snarkier than he had intended. Dick was just making sure he hadn't hit him  _ too  _ hard, after all. But he had still gotten him and gotten him good, and Jason was pretty sure he’d earned the right to a little bit of snark and attitude. “It’s a Sunday. My middle name’s Peter. Yes, I know who the President is, and I swear to God if you tell me to repeat the words ‘truck, house, and spoon,’ in half an hour, I’m going to lose it.”

He watched Dick nod, seemingly satisfied with Jason’s response. “You know, you could’ve called.”

Jason rolled his eyes at that. He’d never been the calling type. More ‘break down the door and ask questions later.’

Granted.

That had never landed him an escrima stick to the head until about ten minutes ago.

He didn’t protest when Dick moved to help him up. He could move on his own, but he was pretty sure Dick felt guilty and embarrassed over the whole exchange. But Jason couldn’t blame him for reacting like he had. If he’d caught someone unexpected breaking into one of his safehouses, he wouldn’t have stopped to see who it was before knocking them out. Or worse.

He let Dick lead him into the living area of the safehouse before plopping down onto a couch that was probably older than he was. He was pretty sure his back would have preferred the floor.

He scanned the room, more out of habit than anything else. Peeling paint on the non-brick walls. A few dings in the floor. Clothes by the front door from where Dick had apparently undressed while walking in. Dishes in the sink. “Been here awhile?”

“A few days,” Dick answered and sank into the armchair across from the couch. “Tracking a drug ring.”

“Fun,” Jason responded and frowned when he saw a garment bag hanging from the back of the door, only half zipped. He could see a white tuxedo shirt and a black jacket poking out from it. “You getting married and not telling anyone?” he asked, turning to glance toward Dick.

“What?” Dick asked with a frown before following Jason’s gaze to the garment bag and back. “Oh,” he laughed, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “No. No. Worse than that.”

“Oh?”

“Tim roped me into chaperoning his prom.”

Jason couldn’t help but laugh at that. He couldn’t quite picture Dick in the middle of a hotel ballroom or some art gallery telling teenage couples to knock it off and making sure no one spiked the punch.  


“You want to help?”

“I’d rather die again.”

“I’ll buy you dinner.”

Jason shook his head at that, though a smile crossed his face. He’d never gotten to go to his own prom, having died as a freshman. And as awful as chaperoning and being the ‘responsible adult’ sounded… Maybe it would be fun. Especially if he was there with Dick. And. Well. He figured there were worse ways to spend an evening.

“Fine,” he caved, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “But I’m not renting a tux.”

* * *

Alfred had insisted Jason use the manor to get ready for prom. Jason had insisted it was unnecessary. Besides. It wasn’t his prom. It was Tim’s. But Tim was busy getting his picture taken at his date’s house, and Alfred had reminded Jason that he and Bruce had no prom pictures for Jason.

And.

Well.

In the end, Alfred always won.

He stood in front of the full length mirror hanging on the back of the door of his old room. The tux had been tailored perfectly. Jason never would have dreamed he’d look so good all dressed up. Maybe there was something to the ‘you sure clean up nicely’ line after all.  


He buttoned up the dark blue cummerbund under the jacket and stared at the matching bow tie hanging around his neck, not quite ready to admit he didn’t know how to tie it.

A knock on the door startled him, and he jumped back a bit before opening it, raising an eyebrow when he saw Bruce standing on the other side. “Can I help you?”

“Just wanted to check in on you,” Bruce answered, and if Jason didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw a smile on the man’s face. “You look nice,” he continued, and Jason watched as Bruce’s eyes zeroed in on the untied bow tie. “Sit,” he commanded.

Normally Jason would have protested on principle. He didn’t answer to Bruce. Hadn't in a long time. But today was supposed to be fun. And he really didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.

He took a seat at the dressing table, glancing at Bruce standing behind him through the mirror.  


“I always hated these things,” Bruce commented and started fiddling with the tie. Jason fought the urge to pull at it. He never had liked things wrapped around his neck. “More trouble than they’re worth. I tried to push for clip-ons, but Alfred about had a stroke at the thought.”

Jason smiled slightly at that. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Bruce had been their age once.  


“There,” Bruce nodded when he’d finished tying the tie and straightened it.

“Thanks,” Jason said softly, making eye contact with Bruce through the glass. Bruce squeezed his shoulder before stepping back, a silence filling the void between them. Not that Jason had ever really been bothered by silence.

It was strange, hearing Bruce say something nice to him. Having him do something nice for him. He was used to Bruce constantly criticizing him. To something always being wrong It was nice, hearing something good for a change. “Now go keep those teenagers in line.”

“No promises,” Jason responded before grabbing the box on the table and leaving the room, buttoning his jacket as he moved through the hall.

He smiled when he saw Dick leaning against the railing on the landing, hands folded and dangling over the edge, practically bouncing up and down with nerves or excitement or whatever strong emotion was buzzing through him.

Jason had always appreciated how intensely Dick experienced emotions. Any emotion.

Sometimes he wished he could steal some of that intensity.

“Hey,” he greeted from behind the older man, laughing slightly when Dick jumped. Not quite payback for the escrima stick to the head a few weeks prior, but he’d take what he could get.

He smiled when Dick turned to face him. His tux fit almost too well, and Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t like how the dark red tie and cummerbund looked on him.  


If he hadn't known any better, he would have sworn he caught Dick checking him out.

“So is this the part where we stab each other?” Jason asked as he headed down the stairs, Dick trailing not far behind him.

He heard Dick laugh at the comment, followed by a “Been watching some teen movies lately?”

“Good, good,” Alfred approached them once they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I was beginning to worry you two would be running late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dick responded and picked up a box similar to the one Jason was holding, fiddling with it for a moment before pulling out a dark blue boutonniere. Jason had tried to argue that this exchange was completely unnecessary. That he was perfectly capable of pinning a flower to his suit himself. But Alfred had wanted the pictures, and… Well.

Alfred always won those arguments.

“Don’t get blood on me, Goldie,” Jason warned. “This is a rental.”

“Ye of little faith,” Dick tsk’ed and went to work fastening the boutonniere onto Jason’s tux. Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes when he saw a flash go off in the corner of his eye.

It was nice, having Dick this close to him. Having DIck this intently focused on him. Though he’d never admit it out loud. Never in a million years. And besides, it wasn’t like this was an actual date. Tim’s prom needed more chaperones. Jason was available. That’s all this was… Right?

He focused on returning the favor, pinning the dark red flower onto Dick’s tux, trying to stay focused on the task at hand and not on how nice it felt having his hands on Dick. Being so close he could feel Dick’s breath on his skin.

He didn’t protest when Alfred ushered them outside for more pictures.  


He certainly didn’t protest when Dick wrapped an arm around him.

Part of him wondered if it was the only picture Alfred and Bruce would ever have with Jason smiling in it.

Jason frowned when he saw a limo pull up to the turn-around in front of the manor before turning to face Dick. “You recognize we’re just chaperoning, right?”

Dick shook his head and walked backward toward the vehicle. “Happy prom, Jay.”

“God, you’re a dork,” Jason muttered, though there was nothing malicious in his tone. He hated the stupid flippy thing his stomach was doing. Hated the warm feeling he got knowing that Dick had gone through all of this trouble for him.

“You know you love me,” Dick grinned like an idiot and opened the door, gesturing inside.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Jason responded before sliding inside.  _ You know you love me.  _ Where the hell had that phrase come from? No. It didn’t mean anything. He’d heard Dick say it to countless people. Usually after he’d done something, well… Something like this.

It didn’t mean anything.

Much as Jason would have liked it to have meant something.

“All right,” Dick commented, shutting the door behind him after sliding into the seat next to Jason. “Let’s do this thing.”

* * *

Gotham Academy’s prom ended up taking place in the ballroom of one of the oldest hotels in the city. The walls were covered in a gold brocade. Columns and arches supported a ceiling with an honest to God mural painted on it. The room itself had been decorated in linens and streamers and string lights and a giant banner with ‘Gotham Academy Prom 2019’ in fancy, cursive letters was strung across the DJ stand.

All in all, chaperoning had been a dull affair. They’d only had to throw out the punch once, and most of the students seemed to leave an appropriate amount of distance between them for a school dance.

Jason watched as the last students trickled out, headed to the school’s after prom, and immediately loosened his tie, wishing he could just take it off altogether. “So can we go home now?” he asked, turning to face Dick, who was chatting with one of the teachers.

“Huh?” Dick blinked and turned to face him. “Oh. No. We’re on clean-up crew.”

“We’re on  _ what? _ ” Jason crossed his arms. Dick definitely hadn't warned him about that. Not that he was actually complaining. It meant more time with Dick. More time with him mostly alone.

“Clean-up crew,” Dick repeated, pulling a streamer down from an archway to accentuate his point.

“You owe me,” Jason shook his head, but didn’t frown.

“Big time,” Dick agreed, and Jason watched as the majority of the chaperones started to leave after the last group of students.

At least the DJ seemed content to stay and give them something to listen to as they started to tear everything down.

He fell into a groove, working alongside Dick to tear down posters and pick up confetti. They didn’t talk, but they didn’t need to. Not to mention the loud dance music would have meant screaming at each other to be heard anyway.

He frowned when the music changed, though. No longer the latest dance hits that were overplayed on the radio, but something soft, slow, with a piano riff at the beginning instead of a bass drop.

_ Highway run into the midnight sun. Wheels go round and round. You’re on my mind… _

“I love this song,” Jason watched as Dick’s face split into a wide grin.

He barely knew what was happening when Dick grabbed him by the hand and led him to where the dance floor had been just twenty minutes prior.  


“What are you…” he started to ask, but was unable to finish as soon as Dick had his arms draped over his shoulders, clasped behind his neck.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist, frowning down at him as if to ask what the hell was going on. What the hell this was. If it was even anything at all.

“Everyone should get to slow dance at prom, Jay,” Dick answered, looking him dead in the eye.

“I don’t know how to slow dance,” Jason protested, despite the fact he’d watched around a hundred teenagers slow dance for the past two hours.

“Well, lucky for you, I do,” Dick replied, all confidence and ease, and Jason wished he could have stolen some of that.

He stepped side to side in time with the music, though somewhere along the lines the music had become irrelevant.  


Somewhere between the chorus and the second verse, the world around them had faded away. Dick was the only thing that mattered. They were the only people in existence. All that mattered was Dick and them and  _ now _ .  


A ghost of a smile made its way to his lips when Dick rested his head against Jason’s chest, and Jason responded by resting his chin on Dick’s head.

“Thanks, Dick,” he whispered softly, so softly he wasn’t sure Dick even heard it.

“Any time, Jay,” Dick muttered against his chest.

Jason blinked in surprise and moved back slightly, though not enough to break hold. He frowned slightly as he glanced down at Dick, who was smiling up at him. Not the forced smile Jason had seen him give other people. Not the forced happy go-lucky attitude Jason knew Dick had adopted because he knew it was what people wanted from him. What they expected of him.

A genuine smile full of happiness and maybe,  _ maybe  _ something else.

“God, you’re a dork,” Jason teased, his frown turning into a smile.

“Could be your dork,” Dick commented as they turned slightly, still moving with the music, and Jason hated the stupid backflip his stomach did at that comment. Hated how his heart had skipped a beat and the air had caught in his throat. “If you wanted me to be.”

He stared down at Dick for a long moment, not sure how to respond. What he was supposed to say? What he was supposed to do?

Time seemed to freeze as Jason’s gaze drifted from Dick’s eyes to his lips. They were so close. All he had to do was tilt his head down and…

Dick had leaned up and kissed him before Jason could lean down and kiss  _ him. _

He smiled into the kiss, pulling Dick closer, savoring the feeling. Like a jolt of electricity had coursed through his body.  


And all too soon, the music had stopped, and Dick had pulled away from the kiss, but not from Jason’s arms. “So?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“So I think you’ve got yourself a deal,” Jason said, voice soft, vulnerable in a way he never let show around anyone else. Years of walls and defense mechanisms were crashing down around him, and for once he didn’t mind. Didn’t care.

Because Dick Grayson was his.

Because he was  _ happy  _ for the first time in his second life.

And no one was ever going to take that away from him.


End file.
